Political Moves
by madfry
Summary: My take on the multiple marriage stories in the world of Harry Potter. Post war Britain has problems, and Daphne Greengrass is about to be thrown into the fire. Will the former Death Eater make something of herself?
1. Chapter 1

I am Daphne. And I am strong.

That was about the only mantra that Daphne, formerly of House Greengrass could recite as she made her way out from another failed interview. She hid her stint in Azkaban, after all, it wouldn't look good if everyone knew of it. It didn't matter much, for somehow they always knew who she were. The black sheep of the Greengrass family. The marked Death Eater.

She quickly shook her head. Pity will not fill her dwindling savings. Applying for help from her family has failed – they had made it very clear that they have struck her from House Greengrass, even her sister refuses all contact with her. Friends have scattered, some still in Azkaban, some have made their way to the continent. Tom, however nice the man is, has been asking about rent payment.

Resolving to put the thoughts out of her mind, she ducked into the bookstore to pick up the Prophet, hoping that there are jobs available that she could quickly apply. Some of her colleague who were not so lucky have decided to try and live in the Muggle world with varying degree of success. She heard that many had problems fitting in, even some breaking the statute of secrecy and earned back their place in Azkaban.

Not her, she refuses in any way to go back there. The nightmares that she still got. She'd die before consenting to go back to Azkaban.

A quick scan of the Prophet in her room at the Leaky Cauldron didn't show up anything interesting. The news was full with the details about law reforms being bandied about in part of Voldermont's short reign. It is just that purebloods, with the control that they have in the Wizengamont, is blocking some of the reforms, and that has led to a very fractured Wizengamot with accusations flying all over the place. Daphne was of the opinion that the very clear delineation of light vs. dark was stupid, they were plenty of neutrals still in the Wizengamont, but the problem was the light side didn't trust them not to go dark, and the dark side didn't trust them because they are not dark.

Politics was in her nature. Cyrus Greengrass was a consummate politician – imagine how he had survived several administration including Voldermonts, and part of why he managed to bring the family unscathed during that short reign was sacrificing Daphne, whom he had trained as a politician's wife from the beginning. Of course, after the war, he simply claimed Daphne acted on her own, wanting to ascend and lead House Greengrass, and promptly disowned her. She couldn't put it pass him that he was the one that tipped the DMLE that she had taken the mark.

She was hungry, and in the end, decided to have her lunch. Tom, after he caught a glimpse of her, motioned her to come near. She could pay the man, and all that would be left of her meagre savings would be enough to eat for a few days, but her choices were limited. Before she could say anything, Tom cut her off.

"I'm not asking about the rent. I'm asking if you want a job."

Daphne nodded. Tom, however, shook his head when he realized what Daphne thought.

"Not here. Just a waste of your talent." Tom then gave her a silver card emblazoned with gold. "A friend of mind is looking for a secretary. She didn't tell for who, but in her position, it may be better for you. If you want, I can set up a meeting for your tomorrow morning."

Emblazoned on the card, was the name Hermione Granger Potter, Lady Black.

The muggleborn witch was waiting for her in her office. The Ministry hasn't changed must since Daphne was dragged screaming on her way to Azkaban, the memories made her shudder. By the order of the Ministry, she had to apply for permission to get her wand back after Azkaban, but she hadn't had time to do so, thinking of the urgency to get a job first. An auror led her to the Winzengamot members office, pointing her to Lady Black's office.

Her secretary gave her a once over, before leading her to the meeting room, and asking her to make herself comfortable, since Lady Black had another meeting to attend to. It was nicely decorated. A wizard picture with two big cats dominated the end of the room, a panther and a lioness frolicking with what she swore had some resemblance to Hogwarts in the background. Before she could examine the picture further, the was a crack on the side door, and in steps Hermione Granger.

Potter. Daphne added. Among the first thing she did was to read the books on what happened after the war. When Voldermont was defeated, the chaos and the fact that she was promptly sent to Azkaban meant that she had a lot of gaps in her current knowledge of the Wizarding world. The curious thing was concerning the Potters. Although the was a lot of things contained about what the Potters did after the war, she felt that a lot of information got left out of the official account of matters.

The years have been good to Hermione. She had an inkling that the awkward girl will grow up to be the typical English beauty, but it was more of her confidence and graceful movement that got her attention. She walked towards her, extending her arm.

"Daphne," she said, shaking her hands. "Please, have a seat. Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?"

The conversations began lightly, and Daphne was glad that she didn't begin by asking her anything about Azkaban. Instead, the conversations centred on their time in school, and Hermione did describe some of the changes that had happened at Hogwarts over the years. Minerva was now the headmistress, Slughorn is still at potions while a lot of new people have taken over some of the professorships, the older ones have began to retire or moved on with their lives.

In the end, it was Daphne who decided that the light conversation was putting off whatever reasons that Hermione invited her today. "What's going on, Hermione. Tom said that you have a job offer."

Hermione nodded. "I am asking you this, not as a slight, but I need your understanding. Tom said that you were looking for a job, but you have difficulties finding one. You were one of my rivals at school, so you shouldn't have any problems academically, yet to hear Tom saying it, it seems that even the Knight Bus line rejected you. Have you any idea why?"

Looks like I'm going to lose this too, she resigned to herself. She simply pulled up her sleeve, and showed her the dark mark.

The magical tattoo had stopped moving the night Voldermont was defeated, yet it was a beacon that showed everyone who was evil. She had asked healers discreetly if it could be removed, but either she ran into those who despises her for what the mark represented or will cost her too much money.

"I see. Your family?"

"I got disowned right after I got thrown into Azkaban. If you will excuse me." She stood up, gathering her purse.

"Sit down, Daphne. Please." Her imploring tone stopped her. A few seconds later, she decided to sit back.

Hermione exhaled rather loudly. "I am not here to gloat or make you angry Daphne. The war happened. Consequences of the war happened. Right now I am trying to move pass all of that. However, before we do, I need to know everything about you. You will be working with me, and my husband closely, and I don't want old ties to complicate work at hand. If you tell me now that all you see sitting in front of you is a mudblood, then you may leave."

Daphne considered her words. Does she hate her? She asked herself. If I do, for what? She contemplated the matter at hand.

"Hate. Maybe not. This," she jabbed at the tattoo, "in the end, is my decision. My decision to go with the flow, to join up with what I though as the victor at that time."

"Your family? From what I found, a lot of sons and daughters took the dark mark."

"Partly. Father's money did ease me into a nice position here at the ministry at the time. But he disowned me right after."

Hermione gave Daphne a tight smile. "Not only you. A lot got disowned. You were in Azkaban, so you may not know, but there was a lot of mob violence after Voldermont's death. Harry and I in the end had to take up the Potter and Black seats in the Wizengamont to try and calm things down."

"You and Potter entered the Wizengamont to calm things down?" Daphne asked.

Hermione began explaining. Shortly after Harry's triumph, the fear that kept the population down when Voldermont was alive, decided to aim the anger at anyone they though had something to do with Voldermont's reign. Harry himself had to break up a running battle in the Ministry Atrium when a mob descended on the Ministry. It then followed that another mob marched on the Ministry again when worry came out that the Wizengamont had too many pureblood followers.

"For the good of the people, I married Harry. Harry took the Potter seat, I took the Black seat. That cooled people down a bit, since I am muggleborn and not affiliated or beholden to any of the old houses, and them seeing that the Vanquisher had a say in the new laws being drafted." Hermione explained.

"Which is why I need you. But I need to know if you still carry any prejudices towards people like me or Harry. I need to know that now. Hell," she cursed. "I may need you to swear an unbreakable oath before you start."

"You don't trust me?"

"Will you, if you are in my position?" Daphne nodded in agreement, before Hermione continued. "Wizengamont is hard enough as it is right now, and I don't want to keep watching my back waiting if you want to stab me."

Daphne looked down, playing with her nails. She thought back of her inability to find a job somewhere else. Death Eaters engendered no loyalties, she found out, as many of those same set didn't want anything to do with her. In the end, she may have to resort to Knockturn Alley, and what would that say to her pureblood views and status.

"It may be better if we do an unbreakable vow." Daphne saw the disappointment in Hermione's eyes, but it quickly disappeared.

"I appreciate your candour. But I need to asked you a few questions first."

The next few hours was spent with Daphne and Hermione discussing the state of politics in the wizarding world. Daphne's understanding of the world was much better that Hermione since she was born into it and trained by her family from when she was young. Some of the traditions aren't even in the books, and the loopholes and Daphne's intimate knowledge of the laws was really interesting to Hermione. Even the breath of her knowledge on the current social standing was interesting. Hermione order lunch to be served as they continued their discussions.

"Really," Hermione asked, as she played with her food. "You mean bigamy or polygamy is actually allowed to be practiced in the wizarding world? Why don't I see it written anywhere?"

"Because it was an old law to ensure a house has an heir and succession. Just that our problem was we had too many wars bunched up together that eliminated too many heirs. I suspect that soon multiple marriage contracts will be offered to all eligible bachelors, and big house."

Daphne took a sip of her drink, watching as some understanding seemed to dawn on Hermione's face. "So that's what that parchment meant!"

"Parchment?"

"Pansy Parkinson sent me invitation to discuss some matter of import to her. Said that she wanted me as the first wife of Lord Potter to have a say in a mutually beneficial agreement. I blew her off because I though she wanted to bribe me or something."

Daphne had to laugh. "Yes, that is the language."

"But why send the invitation to me? I mean," horror dawned on her face. "Damn, you mean hundreds of those letters are all asking Harry to marry their DAUGHTER's?"

"Probably. Is there any chance that your family controls any other seat without named heirs?"

Hermione nodded. "The Peverell seat is ours."

Daphne smiled. "If Harry have a second wife, he may name her Lady Peverell, and any heirs from her can become Lord Peverell. So that makes Harry more desirable. Title, money, power."

"Argh..." Hermione stood up, and began pacing. "So why are all the letters addressed to me then?" Her eyes narrowed. "I wonder if Harry James Potter is hiding something."

Daphne shook her head. "The Law of Multiple Wives 1521 clearly states that the first wife has power and discretion over who becomes the second wife and so forth, and the declaration must not be made under any undue or illegal influences. That's why they are sending all those request to you. If Harry wants to marry again, you need to negotiate the contracts, you need to agree for it to be binding."

She took a sip from the cup. "You styled yourself as Lady Black. Why not Potter?"

"Appearances sake. Shit! Pansy Parkinson is after my Husband!"

After her outburst, Hermione realized that Daphne was also in Slytherin, and may be her friend. "Sorry. About Parkinson, I mean, I had no right to demean your friend."

Daphne had always pegged Parkinson as somewhat too obsessed with Draco Malfoy back when they were in school. In private, among her own clique however, she had always though that Patsy Parkinson was an airhead, and she had no idea how she got sorted into Slytherin. It didn't mean that Daphne didn't ask help from Parkinson. But in the end, she proved smarted to avoid getting the dark mark. She nodded to Hermione.

"Anyway, the post of secretary is yours if you want it." Hermione accepted. "But I still need the oath."

"You will have it." Daphne offered.

"All right. Come back around tomorrow, I still need to look into a few things. Do you need ministerial housing? Staying a the Cauldron is a drain, if my past experience are anything to go by."

Daphne agreed. She half-heartedly pushed away the advance Hermione offered her, but Hermione refused to take no for an answer, saying that she had experienced living on the edge before, and it does nothing good to the mind. So with cash, Daphne decided the world is looking up a bit, and maybe she could treat herself to something nice.


	2. Chapter 2

"I got myself a new secretary today," Hermione raised her voice, hoping her husband would hear.

"Great." Came the muffled reply from the adjoining bathroom. "So you're going to return Katy back to Neville? Anyway I know?"

"Yeah, I think I've taken advantage of Neville enough. She's in our class."

Harry Potter stepped into the opulent bedroom, a towel in his hand. "Katy was in our class?"

"No. My new secretary is. Slytherin. Daphne Greengrass."

"Uh, Greengrass." Harry searched his memories. "Blonde, pale, tall? Which side did she bat for?"

"Moldyshorts. A stint in Azkaban. Got the mark." Hermione reluctantly replied.

Harry was silent. Hermione knew that it is his way sometimes, to digest information, match it to what he knew, and to form an opinion. The fact that he was wearing only boxers as he made his way to his side of the bed made watching him pleasing. He flipped the cover, careful not to disturb her books, and prepare to settle in for the night.

Hermione kept reading the law books, waiting for Harry to start. "Can she be trusted?"

"She told me that she would have to take a vow, though. What do you think?"

"Sure she's not an assassin or anything?" Harry replied. When they first came to the Wizengamot, they decided that each and every staff they hire or use must be tested for their loyalties. It was the early days after the war, where paranoia was the order of the day, and they were big targets for revenge for those who profited from Voldermont being the head honcho. Kingsley told them that the Ministry had to form a sub team of Aurors just to investigate threats on them both, and after 3 years, the threats are still coming in.

3 years also was a learning curve. They didn't have much of a mentor, while Kingsley Shacklebolt does have some political acumen, the Wizengamot was a shark tank that devours anything that comes it unprepared.

Currently 213 seat strong, when Voldermont came into power, he simply installed himself as the High Lord of the Wizengamot, with law making and veto power to boot, and started purging members he deemed undesirable off the Wizengamot seat. So when Kingsley came in as the Minister, the first order of business was to revert the membership of the Wizengamot back to the original members a day before Voldermont took over the Ministry.

Which was a mistake. There were a lot of Wizengamot members who died, and fights broke out over who will inherit the hereditary seats. The 30 common seats were also in dispute, the disarray over the breakdown in society meant that they were not in a position to hold elections for the seats. In the end, as distasteful as it was, as Vanquisher of Voldermont, Harry took the High Lord seat, and made the necessary changes and rulings, before announcing the removal of the High Lord seat and returning the power back to the Wizengamot. Inevitably, his 90 day reign as Lord Potter didn't sit well with a lot of people, hence the need for extra security.

"Protection Detail cleared her when I checked." Hermione replied, handing him Daphne's file, which Harry perused. Among his decree while he was High Lord was the Punishment & Sentencing of Marked Death Eater Individuals Law. Kill people, you get veiled. Rape people, you get veiled. Unforgivables, life in Azkaban. Assorted assistance for the regime, assorted jail sentences. Daphne fell into the assorted assistance category.

Deciding that he trust Hermione to make the call, he peeked at the book she was reading. Multiple Wives? "Interesting book you have there, wife."

"Yes, Husband." She smirked. "My new secretary pointed it out to me. Remember that strange letter Pansy sent me? Apparently she wanted to be your second wife, you know."

Harry blanched at that. "So that's what Lord Parkinson was hinting." He kept his peace for a while before he realized something. "You mean to tell me that all those letters..."

"Was asking me permission to take a second wife. Oh, all the power is with me, husband, apparently. I can marry you off to whoever I want."

"Strange law. Any repealement?"

"Nope. Any luck with the reparation law?"

There was a law being debated in the Wizengamot, Pay Back For All The Suffering Law where it is suggested that the Ministry be given power to seize any holdings from known Death Eaters. Not surprisingly, the draft has been amended so many times with so many suggestion that even the original drafter couldn't make any sense of it now. Harry was tempted to ask Amelia to just withdraw the law because without the grey's and the darks, they were never going to get the law passed anyway.

And it was a source of extreme annoyance to them. It was unfortunate that they were seen as the pillar of the white's in the Wizengamot, but the fact is they wouldn't have the strength to vote through the laws that they want unless they get the grey's to back them up.

And Harry and Hermione can see that the grey voting block is growing. Harry is frustrated because sometimes he felt like throttling his fellow white's for their overzealousness. The Pay Back law for example was championed by Amos Diggory, supported by around 68 of the known light voting block. Harry and Hermione did agree that some form of law for compensation for action during the war is warranted, but to strip bare even cousins who may not be in league?

And for the first time, they both abstained from voting the first time the vote was called. Of course, now they stepped on the toes of the light voting block, the greys thought Harry were using Amos Diggory to push their agenda, and the darks just attributed it as a transparent plot by the Potters to get rich.

There is a reason why most politicians are Slytherins, as Harry and Hermione learned. Privately, Harry thought that when he was High Lord, he just could disband the Wizengamot and made membership to the law making body fully elected, before he was advised, in clear terms, that if he had done that, a mob probably would appear and torch his house, Vanquisher be damned.

"Feels like we are not doing much now, are we?"

Hermione decided to stop reading and slowly put the law book on the night stand. She snuggled under the heavy blanket and hugged her husband. Moments passed before she looked up to his face. "Regrets?"

"No regrets, remember," He admonished her, reminding her of the oath that they took, the sacrifices that they had made.

Hermione's though flashed to a certain red headed boy. "No regrets." Her right hand pulled her husbands head for a kiss. "No regrets at all."

Some time later, they had moved from the bed to a spread in front of the fireplace. Neither wanted to sleep yet, each contemplating, planning on the coming morning.

Harry was first to say it. "We can't just hope for the light voting block. We need an in with the greys and the darks. We can't be seen as just batting for the light anymore, if we want to push the reforms or the laws that we want."

"Easier said than done, my husband. I kept being blown off."

"Me too. Parkinson did mention that we are too, reliant on one block when we needed to have support from all of them, and we needed to have someone to actually connect us to the right people. He hinted that he could be that someone, only if I talk to the wife."

Hermione deliberated. "I'm surprised that you are not that bothered about the multiple wives law still being valid and used."

"Should I be?" Harry replied. At the darkening mood on his wife's face, Harry hastily added. "Mione, we got trouble voting on how long a candlestick must be made. Do you think we have any chance in hell to repeal that law if we want to?"

Hermione exhaled her held breath. "So what do we do? Navigating all this politics should be Shaklebolt's job, anyway. Why isn't he doing something?"

Harry thought about it. "Because he is having the same problems as we do. He's associated too much with the light voting block also. To be honest, I think our side is starting to look like the dark side also."

The sentence pulled Hermione's attention from the fireplace to Harry's face. "Meaning."

"We put up too many drafts, all about revenge. The members go to the Daily Prophet, promising pay back and revenge. None of it speak for justice."

"They lost sons. Daughters. Families."

"Does that condone what is happening right now? No, it does not. Even worse, when it is coming from people who lost little in the war, and yet they wanted to line up their pockets. Anson spoke about the loss during the war and how retribution should be made, but he pulled up his family and went abroad during the war."

Hermione nodded. It was among the things that has begun to rankle her. Harry and her had vowed that they will be fair and just while doing their duty. It was much harder for them even, living in tents all those months dodging and fighting all those Death Eaters while trying to destroy the horcruxes. However, the hour was late, and they have their jobs to do in the morning. This is a discussion for another time.

She sighed, quickly re-reading the Daily Prophet again. Harry's not going to like this, she thought to herself, waiting for him to come down for breakfast.

An owl dropped her Daily Prophet Subscription while she was making breakfast. The house elf knew better than to disturb the mistress's morning routine, so they left her alone. Harry was still getting ready upstairs, she woke up earlier.

 _Golden Couple Bias?_

The rest of the article claimed that their action as hereditary seat order are biased, and they have been working to undermine those that they perceived as their enemy at the Wizengamot. The spin that they put on the votes and the legislation that they were coming up or are already involved in put them as a couple seeking revenge without care.

Harry came down and took his customary seat at the head of the table, noticing her frown as she read the Daily Prophet. "Trouble?" Wordlessly, Hermione handed him the paper. She watched as anger flashed in his eyes. "Would it be bad if we just apperate to their offices and then just torched the place?"

"We're not fighting a guerrilla war anymore, husband. And we'll be the first suspects if we do." Hermione replied. "Sometimes it is much easier fighting in a tent then in an office."

Harry shrugged. "So how do we deal with this."

"Maybe it's time I have that tea with Narcissa. See what she has to say, any suggestion that she might have."

Harry nodded. "Unfortunately, I'm leaving for Paris today, and I won't be available for the next week." They knew that he has been putting off the continental tour waiting to see the results of the reparation law, but obviously the law was not going their way. "You're going to have to proxy for me for the next Wizengamot assembly later. As for handling the Prophet's current snit, can I leave that to you, or do you want to wait until I come back?"

"I'll see what can be done." Hermione nodded, her mind running a few scenarios. "If I can, I'll do something."

"Good." Harry said, before he began eating his breakfast. They began talking about inconsequential things, a plan of action on the table. Harry and Hermione had both trusted each other implicitly, due to their experiences while on the run, and their intimate knowledge of each other meant that most of the time, they accepted whatever the consequences of each other's actions.

Soon enough, breakfast was done, and they began preparing for their respective days.

Daphne arrived at the ministry early that morning. She made her way through security without much problem, since she didn't have a wand to check in, and made her way to Lady Black's office, where Katy Goring, the loaned secretary from Neville Longbottoms' office was packing her things. After showing her the appointment books, the pile of correspondence and where all the quills and ink are located, Katy excused herself, and left the office.

Daphne took a seat at the secretary's table, and waited for Hermione to arrive. Moments later, the office door was opened, and two women stepped in. It was Hermione, and to her surprise, Narcissa Malfoy.

"It's good that we can meet this morning," Hermione said to the elder woman. "I'm sorry about the short notice, but it's been a madhouse here. Ah, Daphne, you're here."

Daphne stood and nodded. "Thanks, Lady Black. Lady Malfoy." She acknowledge the older woman.

"Daphne Greengrass?" Narcissa intoned. "Err.."

"I know of her background, Narcissa." Hermione noted casually, as she flipped through her appointment book that she picked up, happy that her schedule was pretty much clear that day. She rattled off a series of instruction to Daphne, before signing the form that allowed Daphne as her secretary to carry a wand into the premises. "Go to Ollivanders when you have the time, and charge the purchase to the Black personal account."

"But Lady Black," Daphne stammered.

"My secretary will need a wand, there is a lot to do Daphne. We'll do the vows later." Hermione said, striding to the door to her private office. "Let me put my things in first. Make yourself comfortable, Narcissa."

Both of them watched Hermione disappeared into her personal office. Narcissa took a seat in front of Daphne, as Daphne also made a move to sit. They were silently assessing each other for a few minutes. Finally, Narcissa broke the silence. "You look, good."

"As do you." Daphne replied. They settled into a casual conversation, updating each other on what has been going on the past few years. They had known each other because both of them moved in the same circle, even more so after Daphne took the dark mark. It was disconcerting to know that in the end, not much has changed, however hard things were being done in the Wizengamot. The subject of her incarceration is Azkaban came up when Draco became the focus of the conversation.

"He's doing his time in Azkaban," Narcissa intoned. "He should be released in a few months. Lucius, well.. In a few years, I hope. All in all, it was for the best."

"But... How?" Daphne inquired, a hard tone behind the voice. Lucius must have done more than me, yet he still got a prison sentence. Why didn't he get the veil?

The anger on Daphne's face wasn't lost on Narcissa. "Because Harry vouched for us. We switched side in the end, Daphne."

That deflated her anger a bit. "So you betrayed Voldermont."

"It was a risk. We, or I betrayed him when he still could win. If he had won, our family would have been wiped out, Daphne. And you know he could not have lasted forever. I know you may felt that whatever has happened is not fair to you, but remember the first thing that we learned when our mothers taught us."

"Nothing's fair in the world but for what we strive to take and make." It was the creed and mantra drilled in society balls to all unmarried girls, about to make their way in society.

Just then, Hermione popped out from her office door. "Narcissa, come in. Daphne, call the commissary and ask them to send tea..." Narcissa nodded, "ah, tea and some finger food here. We'll do the vow later."

Daphne nodded as Narcissa headed towards the door. She quickly floo called the commissary, and then took her seat to make sense of the mess in front of her.

A few hours later, Hermione, sitting on the couch next to Narcissa, was quite. The older woman had given her a lot to think about. She absently fingered the cup of tea as Narcissa made her point.

"Problem is, society is fracturing. There is an unofficial boycott on the businesses of the families considered purebloods. That in turn, made those families band together more tightly than ever, which leads to your problem in the Wizengamot, where they vote down every legislation that you and Harry had a hand in. Not only are the traditionally purebloods affected, but the neutrals are also suffering. People like Daphne, those that have nothing to do with slinging death curses in running battles are found guilty by association. I have to say, your decision to sit in the Wizengamot did quell things a bit, but unless there is reconciliation, I don't think that you'll make any headway trying to change the world."

Hermione nodded. "You seemed to have prepared a lot into the speech you just gave me."

"Because I've been rehearsing it for years, Lady Black. I've been trying to get you or Harry to see me for quite sometime." She pulled a letter from her purse, handing it over to Hermione who began scanning the contents. She blanched a bit when she read it.

"I suspect that you didn't actually wrote that reply, since it was signed by your secretary."

Hermione nodded. More things began making sense now. Her assigned secretary was probably screening and junking letters that she thinks her boss didn't want to see. "I'm surprised that she allowed all those second wife request to come through though."

"Second wife?" Narcissa inquired, and Hermione explained to her. "I suspect that she thought you would abhor that, being muggleborn and all. I don't want to pile things on you Hermione, but you are the best hope we got to right things in this society. The general populace still see you as a hero. They worship the ground you walk on. They know of the sacrifices you made. They'll listen to you if you really want to change things."

"But that means dealing with the neutrals and purebloods."

"So? Deal with them. Make a grand gesture of friendship. Hermione, those same people are desperate to move on also. They feared that a mob will suddenly appear and torch their manor to the ground. They fear that they will be spit on and harassed in the walk along Diagon Alley. Show them that you understand them, show them that you are thinking of their welfare also, and maybe you can start getting concessions that you need. I am here today partly is because they have been trying to press that information to you and Harry, partly because of what you both did for my family."

Hermione knew that there was an uproar when Harry requested leniency on the Malfoys, obstentially for the help they rendered him and the fact that he was head of the Black family. She ran possible scenarios in her head. "Will you help me, in dealing with the purebloods?"

"I will." Narcissa nodded. "What will you do with the general populace though? You need to convince them, as a society to move on. The purebloods would want that."

"Grand gesture. Any ideas?"

Narcissa was quite. She herself began thinking of possibilities. "I don't want to say much, but are you willing to sacrifice some things, Lady Black."

Hermione snorted. "Seems that's about the only thing that we both are doing since we stepped into Hogwarts." She regarded Narcissa for a moment, before it dawned to her. "You're thinking that Harry needs a second wife from the purebloods."

"Parkinson has a point." Narcissa replied.

"I am not having Pansy Parkinson as a co-wife. Sister-wife. Damned, if Harry did marry a second wife, what in hell do I call her?"

"Sister." Narcissa shrugged. "Then again, you'll be making the other Houses angry, since you chose another over theirs. As I say, there are pros and cons to everything. But getting a second wife from the pureblood ranks would send a signal to the populace that you are preparing to let bygones be bygones."

Hermione gave it some thought. The idea did rankle her, but what Narcissa is saying didn't deviate much from what Harry and her had noticed these past few years. Well, Harry did say he's leaving the matter to me. Probably best if you find a candidate and see how it goes.

Narcissa was also giving it some thought. In a way, she was looking out for her family also. It would be much better if her son and husband comes out from the world that is less ready to mob their manor. But she didn't want some other house to gain advantage over the marriage also. Hell, she would have convinced Lady Black to take her daughter if she had one. It was then that she had an epiphany.

The epiphany was not lost on Hermione. "You have someone in mind."

"Yes, well, in a way, you yourself found the best candidate all things considered. In fact, she is sitting outside this room right now."

Hermione shrieked. "Daphne!" Less that a few second, there was a knock on the door, and the woman herself appeared. "You called, Lady Black?"

"Ah, sorry. Err.. carry on, wrong idea." Hermione replied, to Daphne's confusion as she closed the door. "Daphne Greengrass?"

"Daphne No-Name, if you want to consider the fact that the Greengrasses disowned her. She is still considered a pureblood, and many knew that she was the sacrifice to keep the Ministry out of Greengrass affairs. That means she is not really affiliated with any houses, so none of the could make bias complaints against you. She did her time in Azkaban, so no one could say that she didn't get punished. She has the dark mark, which you could spin saying that you have looked past her background and accepted her, so the general populace should began accepting former death eaters into society."

"And having a death eater married to the Vanquisher would make the bias claim this morning inconsequential."

"Plus the fact that she knows more of the ways and traditions of the Wizarding World. I don't mean that as a slight on you."

"Its the truth. We are muggle raised, and so many of those ways and traditions aren't really written anywhere."

Hermione took a few more moments to consider the ramifications. "She offered a vow of loyalty. I would have asked her for a simple promise, but she felt it is better if she made a vow of loyalty."

"Ways of thinking and prejudices don't disappear overnight, Lady Black. It takes time. The fact that she offered that vow of loyalty even though you didn't press it makes her honest. Think of that, at least. The vow of loyalty could be that of a wife instead of a secretary."

"Would she accept it, if it was offered to her?"

"Only one way to find out," Narcissa replied, as she made her way to the door. "Daphne, would you come in please."


	3. Chapter 3 - Meanwhile In France

The visit to the French Ministry of Magic didn't get off to a great start. In fact, Harry mused to himself, the visit is proving to be an outright disaster, thanks to one Jacques Pavon.

The eminent French duellist is right now in from of him, cursing him verbally in French, a language that he had little proficiency with. The atrium where they are squaring against each other is located deep in the heart of the Ministry Building in Paris, and streams of onlookers are coming out of their offices, waiting for the spectacle to begin.

This is why I hate overseas trip, he muttered to himself. The problem with having relative peace, is sometimes the natives gets restless. Six months after the defeat of Voldermont, the duel request started coming in. Challenging him to prove his mettle. Harry shook his head at the memory. It got so bad that in the end, he rounded up as many of those that challenged him, and one fine morning, in Hyde Park, hidden from the muggle word, picked one person to set an example with.

The challenges from the British duellist was withdrawn after they saw what he did to the first challenger. What he did was quick and brutal, and the others took the hint that probably what they read between the lines about what he did during the war had some truth in it.

He thought that was all behind him now. It was a surprise when the aide to Francois Delacour, the one that is supposed to lead him to the French Minister's office, suddenly slapped his face with a pair of gloves. An unmistakable honour challenge.

"What are we waiting for, Vanquisher? Let us begin." At least his English is impeccable, Harry muttered to himself.

"I am waiting for Mr. Delacour first, Mr. Pavon. I feel that I need to pose a question to him, just to settle my mind at ease." Harry answered back.

"Jacques Pavon!" Right on time, the French Minister of Magic appeared. "What is the meaning of this?"

"I, Jacques Pavon, challenge Monsieur Potter to a duel!" He replied, eyes locked on Harry.

"Clarify something with me then? Have I wronged your family in some way, that you feel that you need to challenge me such as this?" Harry replied. "I do want to know why a friendly visit from a British colleague is treated as such."

"Honour and glory, Monsieur Potter. I win, and you stop calling yourself the Vanquisher of Dark lords, and I will have your vassalage."

"You know that Vanquisher thing is not my doing. Hell, I am sure I never called myself a Vanquisher of anything just so you know. But what if I win?"

"You get everything I owned."

Harry exhaled his breath. "Francois? If in the course of this duel, Mr. Pavon here dies, will there be repercussions from the Ministry of Magic here? I'd hate to be seen as a murderer while I am representing the British government now.."

"Wait.. Wait," suddenly Pavon interjected. "What do you mean, death? We duel under the Duelling Code of..."

"I'm afraid my understanding is different Mr Pavon," Harry cut in. "When in involves honour duels in Britain, it is to the death. When I fight, I fight to the death. It is how I am trained, for war, not for show duels. Of course, you could always yield if you wanted to, and we would dispense with all this nonsense." Harry offered an out.

Suddenly, Pavon smiled, mistaking the out as a bluff. "You are scared! It does not matter then. We duel until death, yield, or incapacitation."

Harry turned his attention back to Delacour, who shrugged, then nodded. "No repercussion for any death or incapacitation for Monsieur Potter or for Pavon during the duel."

Satisfied with the assurance given, Harry readied himself for the duel, as Pavon did also. The spectators began backing away from the duellist, as Delacour stepped in the middle. He the stepped back, before yelling, "Begin."

For countries outside of Britain that didn't suffer the presence of Voldermont, they formed the opinion that the idea that Voldermont wasn't that strong if it took a teen to kill him. They heard how Harry Potter was one powerful wizard, but again based on the assumptions, they thought it was just the British trying to save face. Jacques Pavon is regarded as the number one duellist in France, so many thought that against a sitting Wizengamont member who play politics, this duel will not last long in favour of the French maestro.

That is why they were fascinated to see Harry lowering his wand and simply walking towards Jacques, who was busy throwing every curse he could think of against the former boy-who-lived. The slightest movement here and there allowed Harry to avoid all the incoming curses, as he closed the distance between him and Pavon.

 _Tardus Tempore_ was something Hermione came up with, during the time they now affectionally call the year of the Tent. Hermione discovered the spell buried under one of the restricted sections book, a way to slow time. Any spells that manipulates time automatically goes in the restricted sections since it could be construed as meddling with fate. Since the spell itself didn't require any wand movement, and Harry and Hermione had long ago practiced silent casting, Jacques Pavon didn't knew that every second that ticks for him, is ten seconds for Harry. Since the spell only affected him, the spectators saw an unnaturally fast duellist closing in to his opponent, who suddenly found himself staring down Harry's wand.

" _Stupefy!"_ Harry vocalized the spell. The proximity of his wand to Jacques Pavon face meant that the Frenchman was thrown back from the force of the spell, all the way to the wall, ending up with a sickening crunch. He didn't get up after that.

And Harry wasn't breathing hard. The spectator that gawked as some of the available French Aurors went to the fallen man, checking his pulse. A shake of the head confirmed that the man was no longer among the living.

Chalk one more for the red on the board, Harry cursed. He took a look at the spectators that was silently watching him and the proceeding. "I come here at the invitation of the Minister, to maybe pay a visit and strengthen ties between old friends. Instead, I got slapped on the face, challenging my honour."

He let his words sink into the assembled crowd. "I will not be blamed if you decide to poke a dragon with a stick." He continued. "Of course, anybody here," he indicated to Pavon's body, "who thinks that he is faster than that guy, are welcomed to try."

The deafening silence in the atrium told him that no one will take the challenge today. "I hope that this is the last time I am forced to duel somebody in French territory."

Half an hour later, his tie loosen, Harry drank the whiskey Francois offered. Hermione will have my hide for drinking too damned early, but he needed it to take the edge off. His body is tense, alert, ready for a confrontation, and he is doing is best to calm down.

Francois knows this. He considered themselves as family friends, ever since he pulled Gabrielle out from the freezing lake, and has been writing to each other and met up a lot over the years, in part due to Fleur living in Britain. His covert support of his effort during the war was something he knew Harry appreciated. The elderly Frenchman gave his young visitor every moment to calm down, before offering his apology for the unfortunate incident.

"Not your fault." Harry replied. "To tell the truth, I was actually surprised that your countrymen see fit to offer a duel."

"You are the only living wizard that has duelled to the death a dark lord. Unfortunately, not being in the fight means my countrymen may have been... misinformed on how good you are."

Harry snorted. "That's one way to put it."

"And I do apologize about it being one of my aid. But then again, Jacques sometimes is a lot of bluster."

"Bluster or not, I am wondering if I now have to add another enemy on my list that I have to keep an eye out for. Does he have any family? Affiliation? Anybody that will wish to take revenge on me now?"

Francois digested the question. "I will have to get back to you. Hopefully, if they are any family out of this affair, they will remember that Pavon challenged you, not the other way around."

Harry shook his head. "If my experience are anything to go by, by this time tomorrow, I am probably a new Dark Lord that molested his wife." He grew pensive. "Is he married, at least?"

"No." Francois stared at his young friend. "You still have people after you?"

"Been a while since someone tried." Harry agreed. "But I wouldn't put past ex-death eaters, those who think I did too little. Those I who think I did too much. Those that oppose my ideology. Or my wife's." He seemed to shrunk into the seat, drink still in hand. "Sometimes I wonder if it would be better just to take an Auror position, or go teach at Hogwarts. Let politicians play what they like."

Francois laughed. "Because then the same politicians will play with your lives, and you cannot do anything about it. Politics is a dangerous game, my young friend, but it is one of the things that you need to dirty you hands with if you want to really change the world."

"Sometimes I feel like I, we are failing at it."

Francois shrugged. "It happens." He then leaned forwards. "Fleur told me about the little war you waged before winning. Treat politics like that. Gather resources. Gather information. Plan of attack, execute said plan. Only hopefully without bloodshed."

Harry nodded. "I'll keep that in mind. In the interest of not antagonizing people any further, it may be best that my little tour de France gets postponed to another day."

"Gabrielle would be very disappointed." Francois replied. "But it might be best. If you don't mind, I'll help settle Pavon's due to you when I get the full picture."

"What? Oh, I don't want his things." Harry replied.

"You may, or you may not my young friends. But debts need to be settled, no? I'll owl you once I got the full information. You are going back by floo?"

"That might be best."

Francois nodded. "Before I forget, I want to thank you for protecting Fleur." At the confusion etched on Harry's face, Francois chuckled. "The silly tournament is a long time ago. I am talking about when you kept her out of whatever it is you and your wife was doing at the time. Not for lack of trying on her part, if my son-in-law was right."

Harry just nodded, staring at nothing in particular, as if remembering something. Francois may have not been in a lot of battles, but he knew that his words may have brought unwanted memories forthwith. "I am sorry, if my words are bringing up unwanted memories."

Harry waved his protest. "Not your fault. It is something my wife and I will have, and will continue to have to deal with." He smiled. "I always wanted to become an Auror. It seemed like a respectable, fun job. Hermione has always wanted to be a researcher."

"Then, why don't you?" Francois inquired. "Don't forget, your body is still young, even if you have an old soul."

"Because we promised that never again, a young teenager will be burdened the failures of the adults." He took a sip before continuing. "I don't know about France, but Britain must change. The circumstances that bred the last few wars must change. And that means changing from the Wizengamot." He went silent for a moment. "Sometimes I think it is better that I just took Voldermont's role and make that change. I have the public's backing anyway."

Francois considered his words. "Harry, it is easy to become a dictator and order change. It will not last. It breeds to much ill will. You did the right thing by choosing to change the right way. I know it is hard, but at least it will last."

"Think of it as making the world better for your sons and daughters to inherit." Francois continued.

He noticed the sorrow that played on Harry's face at his words, before Harry managed to school his face. Francois felt that it was something that was burdening his young friend. "You know I would keep any confidence that you tell me Harry. What is it?"

Harry dithered, not knowing if he could unburden himself to Francois, before making the decision that he could trust the man. "We cannot have children, Francois." At the confused countenance of the scion of Delacour, he continued. "Hermione took a bad hit once. We checked. The healers say she can't get pregnant. Every healer we went to says she can't get pregnant."

He slowly began sobbing. "Damned sacrifices." He muttered, as Francois muttered a curse.


End file.
